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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23574601">just a little longer • yuta x winwin</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/abnegative/pseuds/abnegative'>abnegative</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:06:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,274</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23574601</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/abnegative/pseuds/abnegative</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuta and Winwin reunite after so many years of being kept apart.</p><p>A reader request</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>114</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>just a little longer • yuta x winwin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A smut / oneshot requested by a reader - if you want to request something you can DM me on twitter @abnegwrites or on cc</p><p>I had a lot of fun with this thanks for requesting I miss writing Yuta x Sicheng and I miss writing NCT fics a lot.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nakamoto Yuta pushed the doors open and looked around the COEX artium. Everything was the same yet nothing was. It was like he was here just yesterday. In actual fact it had been forever. He hadn’t even been back to Korea in five years. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">When the other members began enlisting everything had changed. Yuta packed up and went back to Japan where he’d worked as a choreographer and, most recently, found a renewed fame as the dance coach on a popular talent search show on tv. It was the sort of game he’d thought he’d left behind forever but the paycheck was too good to pass up.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">His past was rarely discussed. He’d never been at the forefront of NCTs popularity in Korea. He’d always suffered at the popularity of the others. Taeyong, always the star, was now a successful soloist after completing his military enlistment. Johnny went home when the others enlisted and just never came back. Taeil was a popular ballad singer and judge on a singing program. Doyoung followed his brothers footsteps into acting; he also recently made a comeback with Taeyong, Jaehyun, Ten and Mark as yet another NCT subunit. There were now too many to count.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">And with Haechan’s discharge from the army now complete he’d been summoned, begged, to come back for a reunion. The whole NCT127 gang would be complete for the first time in five years. He was the last to fly in with Johnny arriving yesterday and Mark never going anywhere. He was still the darling of SM and his face was everywhere.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Yuta gripped his backpack tighter as he walked across the floor to the elevator he pressed the button for the ninth floor and waited. He assumed they were meeting in their regular practice room. As he tapped his foot and waited it was as if the last five years hadn’t happened. It was as if he never took his things and left without barely a goodbye.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It hadn’t mattered at the time. The thing that did matter was broken, shattered beyond repair, and it was easier to walk away than remember every single day. Yuta’s memories were his torture, his torment and his pain, and his greatest regret. He drank most nights to forget. He had to forget the way he ran away from it all.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">*****</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">When the elevator opened he could hear them already. Mark and Johnny’s energy was unmistakable even from down the corridor. He could hear Haechan shrieking, Taeyong’s panicked attempts to calm them, Jaehyun’s laughter echoing down the hall. He took a deep breath, steeled his nerves, and opened the door.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yuta!” The first to dive into his arms was, predictably, Jungwoo. “Hi Jungwoo,” Yuta said softly. He caressed the boys hair gently and then realised he wasn’t a boy any more. He still had his boyish charms but the man holding him around the waist was definitely a man. “I missed you,” Jungwoo said into the fabric of Yutas tshirt. Yuta relaxed as he realised at least one person in the room wasn’t mad at him.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hey,” Taeyong held his fist out and Yuta bumped it. “Been a while,” the charismatic rapper said with a rueful smile and Yuta nodded his agreement. With the relaxed greeting of Taeyong the rest of the room seemed to release a collective breath and Yuta did too. If Taeyong wasn’t mad then no one else would be.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The ruckus resumed and Yuta sat down next to Taeyong. They’d all received the choreography well in advance and had been training it alone. It wouldn’t be easy to make a comeback after so long but the company was committed to this special reunion single. “When do we record?” Yuta asked and Taeyong grinned. “Tomorrow. I can’t wait to get in the recording studio with all you guys.” His face fell a little as he picked at his fingernails. “Solo career gets kind of lonely.” Yuta realised Taeyong hadn’t changed a bit.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I guess we’re all here then,” Yuta stood up and began swinging his arms in a slow stretch. “Might as well give it a first run through.” “Yuta hyung, we aren’t all here yet,” Doyoung interrupted him. “Didn’t anyone tell you?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Yuta looked around at the slew of slightly guilty faces. Of course no one told him. They knew he wouldn’t have come. They were all there, helping him, watching him try to pick up the broken pieces of himself when his world was shattered and his heart along with it.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Sicheng will be here in the morning. He couldn’t get an earlier flight.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">*****</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“<em>He had to take an early flight....”</em></span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Yuta never saw him again.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He tried to hide it, burrowing away in the dorm, spending too long in the bathroom. Everyone knew what was wrong with him. Sicheng was there one day and gone the next. No one really had time to adjust. It wasn’t just Sicheng, it was Lucas and Kun, Ten as well. One day the practice room was full of life and laughter and the busy chatter of trainees and the next it was half empty. They were all gone. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yuta,” Taeyong put a soothing hand on his shoulder but Yuta brushed him off. “Did they know?” he asked as he looked around with eyes filled with hurt. “Did they? Did you?” “No,” Taeyong said. “But I think they did if only for a few days. Yuta, it was probably too hard, he probably couldn’t face saying goodbye.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Yuta turned and slammed his hand into the wall. The plaster shook but didn’t shatter and Yuta hated the fact that his heart was more fragile than the studio wall. He hated the look of pity in Taeyong’s eye. He hated the way the others were too scared to come near him.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The only one who slipped into his arms was JungWoo. The boy had his own demons to deal with and took it just as hard as Yuta. Over the following days Yuta found strength in being there for Jungwoo who missed Lucas terribly, viscerally, his whole body trembling with the loss. And Yuta soldiered on keeping his own feelings inside as he mourned the loss of his soulmate who he never even got to hold.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He never even got to tell him how he felt.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">******</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Are you okay?” Taeyong asked gently and Yuta nodded. He wasn’t but he would fake it. Ultimately, ever since the group started breaking down bit by bit, this was what he was really running away from. Without the handicap of mandatory enlistment WayV had fared much better through the years. They were still together, albeit in a much looser form, but they released an album just last year. They were all doing well on their own projects but Sicheng was the one with the prestigious position as the head of arts at the very old and prestigious Zhenjiang University.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Yuta wasn’t surprised. Sicheng’s commitment to the art of dance, his love of tradition and technique, was second to none. He was truly an artist in a way Yuta could only ever aspire to be. As hurt as he was, as lonely and unhappy he’d been as he stayed alone, he’d also brimmed with pride every time he heard about Sicheng’s latest success. The man had been in blockbuster movies and critically acclaimed dramas before entering teaching. His rise though the university had been fast and well deserved. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Yuta lived a comfortable life and enjoyed a level of fame but nothing like the superstardom Sicheng had in China. Not even close.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“He never even said goodbye,” Yuta managed to croak out as emotion strangled his throat. “He didn’t know how,” Tayeong said, his dark eyes filled with so much empathy and warmth. “He wanted to but he didn’t know how. He didn’t do it to hurt you. He hurt himself more.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Yuta wasn’t sure if that was even possible.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">*****</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Don’t stay in a hotel,” Jaehyun pulled Yuta closer by the arm. “I’ve got plenty of space.” “So do I,” Taeyong chimed in and Yuta smiled at them both. He’d really missed this and, in that moment, couldn’t understand why he’d stayed away. Then the memories of a throaty laugh musical in its surprising baritone reminded him. He’d been too scared to come back. Maybe after all this time he would just have to face his greatest fear.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’ve got a pool,” Taeyong interrupted his train of thought and, despite Jaehyun’s pout, Yuta followed him out to the underground garage. They’d all heard the rumours about Jaehyun’s alleged girlfriend and Yuta figured he could do with the privacy. “So you live alone?” Yuta asked as he tossed his bags into Taeyong’s car and Taeyong chuckled. “Mostly. Baekhyun hyung stays with me a lot when he’s in town but it’s New York Fashion Week so he’s out of the country for ten days.” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You live with Baekhyun now?” Yuta’s meaning was heavily implied and Taeyong almost drove off the road. “We’re friends Yuta. Geez, not everyone falls in love at first sight, making soft honey eyes across the practice room...” it was Yuta’s turn to choke and Taeyong noticed his panic. “Come on Yuta, we aren’t stupid, you haven’t been the same since he left.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The silence overwhelmed them, the bump and burr of the road not enough to break it, until Taeyong finally cracked. “We all knew how you felt about him. I don’t think he did.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Feel,” Yuta said without looking to the side. “Not felt. Feel.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">They drove the rest of the way in silence.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">*****</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He tried to convince himself it didn’t matter but it did. His subconscious drove him to wake a whole two hours earlier than he needed to. He spent way too long in the bathroom of Taeyong’s luxuriously appointed guest quarters making sure he looked just right. He lined his eyes with only enough brown liner to make them stand it without looking overly made up. He styled and restyled his platinum dyed hair until it looked artfully dishevelled and like he hadn’t a care in the world. He carefully chose an earring, white gold and gleaming, and made sure his tshirt was short enough to show off his bellybutton piercing when he moved.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He tried to pretend it didn’t matter but it mattered.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Whoa....” Taeyong wheezed when Yuta joined him outside for breakfast. “Really? Shit, maybe I should get changed, I feel underdressed.” Yuta rolled his eyes to hide his awkwardness. “No, look, I’m just keeping up my appearance in case I get photographed. We start filming again in two weeks.” Yuta knew deep down it didn’t matter. His tv show was popular but he wasn’t even a main judge. It paid well though and gave him some relief from the constant stream of young and spoiled idol wannabes through the doors of his dance classes. Teaching, choreographing, training. All Yuta knew was work filled days, alcohol filled nights, and the slow drip of inherent loneliness.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The room was already half full when they arrived and Yuta almost couldn’t look. He stared down at his favourite black and white Nikes as he walked in behind Taeyong and when he looked up he saw him.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He was there.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">There was no lightning strike, no clap of thunder, no earthquake or hellfire or birdsong. He was just there. Time hadn’t aged him as such, maybe he looked a little stronger, a little wiser. His hair hung a little too long; it was dark now and as shiny as oil slick on still water. His back was half turned and Yuta could see him talking to Doyoung in that certain way he had. Elegant, refined, enthusiastic but subdued. Classic, regal even, Yuta had always been addicted to Sicheng’s aura.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He held his breath as he walked a little closer and waited for the universe to shift. It did, Sicheng turned a little and saw him, and swiftly turned away. He moved a little closer to Doyoung and pretended he didn’t see Yuta standing in the middle of the room staring at him.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Yuta wanted to run.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hey,” Taeyong grabbed his arm and moved closer, “give him some time.” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">
    <em>Time. All he’s had is time. All I’ve had is time.</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">
    <em>Time to rue and regret. Time to wonder and imagine. Time to feel and to ache and to want.</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">
    <em>To want a second chance and to think of nothing else.</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“It’s fine,” Yuta fixed his shirt and ran a hand through his hair. He’d been put in charge of the choreography; he tried to convince himself it wasn’t just because he was the least busy. But he’d learned it weeks ago from a video and hoped the others all had a chance to get a head start. They didn’t have that much time.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">As he stood at the front of the room he stared in the mirror. They were all older, thicker set, carrying themselves as men now. Worldly men who’d thrown away the childish dreams of boys. Some wore their years better than others but no one as well as Sicheng. He had barely aged. His shoulders were always broad. Now his height and his more muscular set body carried a gravitas as he moved. He looked so fit and so strong and so beautiful Yuta almost couldn’t concentrate. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">*****</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He forced his professionalism to take over and soon almost all of them had it down pat. Old habits die hard and they all fell straight back into the pressure of new choreography on a tight schedule. They broke up into groups to record their vocals and Yuta, to his tentative delight, was called up in the same group as Sicheng. It was such a flashback, called up in the first group, the least lines. Still resigned to the same fate after all these years.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hi,” he said when they were in the small waiting room. Johnny was in the booth and they were seated on a couch waiting for their turn. “Hi,” Sicheng said, face stony and blank, voice as calm as still water. “H-how have things been?” Yuta’s wasn’t so calm. His words wavered as he tried to keep it together but Sicheng just shrugged and stared through him. “After all these years that’s the best you can do?” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Yuta was about to respond when the door opened and Johnny walked out. “You’re up,” he said to Sicheng who stood without another word. “You okay?” he asked a visibly shaken Yuta when he sat down heavily on the couch. Yuta sank back and listened to Johnny talk about his life as a popular radio DJ, his beautiful wife, his baby on the way. Johnny was happy, truly happy, and Yuta was happy for him. It still left a bitter taste in his mouth. He’d lost the idea of happiness. He didn’t know how to feel it, how to chase it or grasp it, or even what it looked like. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You should come over for a holiday,” Johnny said bringing Yuta’s attention back to the conversation. “Maria would love to meet you. Come over when the baby is born.” Yuta nodded. It sounded great, wallowing in the saccharine glow of someone else’s happiness, trying to catch a little taste of it. It sounded like a beautiful nightmare.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">When Sicheng was done recording he walked straight out of the room. He barely paused as he rushed past them and Johnny watched in confusion. “What the fuck is his problem?” he grumbled as Yuta stood up to head into the booth. He sang his three lines a few times and was dismissed and smiled to see Johnny waited for him. “You were fast,” he said and Yuta just laughed. “Nothings changed,” he replied and wished it was true.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">*****</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Three days later things were down to the wire. They’d had their fittings for their costumes and filming was the next day. New hairstyles and last minute wardrobe adjustments, jewellery and accessories, the usual accoutrements in a well worn routine. Yuta’s hair, long enough to tie back, had escaped the scissors at his staunch request and he was going to be wearing an array of glittering bobby pins in the side. He was happy with his costume, especially as the stylist chose a crop too, showing off the smooth planes of his stomach and the glint off his bellybutton piercing.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">But tomorrow was still so far away as they worked until the last minute. He tried not to notice but he couldn’t help it. Sicheng was always half a beat behind, his movements not sharp enough, his posture too elegant. Years of dedication to the finer art of the traditional and classical had smoothed the edges of his skills. He was always a little too graceful, too refined for the hard hitting style of their choreographed but it was even more noticeable now.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He had to say something. It was on his shoulders and the burden was heavy but he’d carry it as long as he had to.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Sicheng” he said as everyone was packing up for the day, “it’s not working. Can we go over it a few more times?” He kept his voice soft, committed to non confrontation, but Sicheng scowled anyway. On his delicate features it looked almost comical, so adorable, so beautiful. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Yuta choked back a sob as he spoke again. “It needs to be stronger. Your isolations have to be sharper. I can help you-“ “Fine,” Sicheng snapped as he tossed his backpack back into the floor and went over to the mirror. Yuta waved Taeyong away. He’d catch a cab, sleep here on the couch if he had to, he’d done it before. Many times.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">When the room was empty they were alone. Yuta started the music again and went through the motions, then watched Sicheng. He pointed out the positions, showed him how they should look, helping him get them right. Besides this one part at the end it was all coming together but there was a combination Sicheng just couldn’t get on beat.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Ugh....” Sicheng’s frustration boiled over in an uncharacteristic display of insolence. “Why can’t I get it.” “Because you can’t relax and let things go,” Yuta responded and the words were spoken into existence before he could take them back. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Like you let me go?” Sicheng said and instantly turned. Yuta watched him grab his backpack and run for the door.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Wait....” Yuta followed him out the door and down the corridor. Expecting him to head for the elevator, he was surprised to see him head for the bathroom instead, the door swinging closed behind him.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Sicheng,” he called out as he followed him in but only silence echoed back.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He turned to walk out but changed his mind. Sicheng had left him, just disappeared all those years ago, but Yuta let him. He wasn’t making the same mistake twice. He walked along the row of showers until the end where one stall door was closed. He pushed at it and the way it swung open told him all he needed to know.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You left me. I wasn’t the one who took off to another country without even saying goodbye. You left me.” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It wasn’t a question. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He stared Sicheng down as the taller man defiantly spun away from him and fiddled with the taps making hot water stream out. “I didn’t have a choice. You knew that. You had to know that.” Finally the waver in his voice broke free and his shoulders hunched. “Can you get out?” he said with resignation more than defeat and Yuta stood stoic and shook his head.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“No. I’m.....” he sighed. “I’m just so tired Sicheng. I’m fucking tired. I work, I drink, nothing feels good. Nothing feels right.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Sicheng turned at that and looked right at him, passion burning, searing right through Yuta. He shivered under Sicheng’s cold heated gaze. He went to reach a hand out but Sicheng ignored it and turned back to his shower. “Get the fuck out,” he said and Yuta was done.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Only if you can say it. Say it Sicheng, say you didn’t love me, you didn’t want me. Say it and I’ll leave.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Did you love me?” Sicheng asked, quiet now, his anger satiated and subdued.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“No,” Yuta shook his head making his hair tumble around his cheekbones.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Not did. Do. I still do love you. I still want you.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The earth tilted a little as Sicheng pulled him into his arms. The breath he was holding finally escaped as Yuta fell against his chest. “I missed you so much,” he choked out and next thing he knew they were kissing, Sicheng’s fingers at his jaw, his tongue searching his mouth. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It was hot, wet and slick, hungry and furious. Ten years, maybe even longer, of repressed feelings spilling out of Sicheng and into Yuta’s mouth. He groaned a little and clutched Sicheng’s shirt and when he stumbled they both slipped backwards under the shower.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Warm water streamed down Yuta’s face as he moaned into Sicheng’s mouth. He had to take control before this became something ugly, something he didn’t want. He pulled back and didn’t miss the tears mingling with the shower water as they streamed down Sicheng’s cheeks.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I missed you so much,” Yuta said again, voice barely a whisper, “I missed you every single day.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Why didn’t you say something?” Sicheng’s bottom lip trembled and Yuta had never seen him this raw, this vulnerable. “I-I was scared. I was stupid. I always thought it was one sided.....” Yuta stroked Sicheng’s cheek with his thumb as water pulled his hair into little spikes. “I thought you didn’t care.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I cared....” Sicheng replied as his hands came up to rest on Yuta’s tshirt. It was soaked through, clinging to him like a second skin, and Sicheng was suddenly on him again kissing him fiercely.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">They barely noticed the water. Years of feelings bubbled to the surface in a frantic rush of lust. Yuta closed his eyes as he felt Sicheng sliding down his body, slow and soft, hands trailing down his wet clothes. “Thought about this every day,” Sicheng said as he pushed Yuta’s shirt up and leaned back in surprise. “How long have you had this?” He asked as his thumb traced the glint of metal pierced through his bellybutton. “Ages,” Yuta replied.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He closed his eyes as his knees felt like they would buckle. He’d longed for this moment, hungered, wanted, for years he’d dreamed of this. And now it all seemed to be happening too fast. Sicheng’s hot lips were trailing around the metal in his bellybutton and moving to the elastic of his sweatpants. He wanted this but he still wanted answers. “Why didn’t you at least call? You just vanished without even saying anything....” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I couldn’t,” Sicheng was on his feet and they were eye to eye before Yuta could take the words back. “You should understand better than anyone. I had no say. No power. I had to do what I was told.” His expression softened at last and Yuta’s did too. When he saw the tears brimming again he felt the anger and the sadness melt away like the first snow. It didn’t have to be this way anymore. He didn’t want it to be this way between them.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m sorry,” he said, eyes closed in contemplation, and Sicheng lay his head down on Yuta’s shoulder. “I’m sorry too.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yuta...” Sicheng’s deep voice reverberated over the sound of the shower as he broke the silence. His fingertips brushed the hard buds on Yutas chest and he opened his eyes to find Sicheng staring at him, eyes hungry now rather than angry, and Yuta couldn’t breathe. He remembered this Sicheng, the relentless boy who always persisted, the tenacious boy was now a man who was intent on getting what he wanted.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Shit...” Yuta mumbled as he felt Sicheng pulling at his pants. When Sicheng dropped to his knees on the hard tiled floor Yuta wanted to bring him back up but he couldn’t. He instead gave in, held his breath as his pants were yanked to the floor, hummed in delight as he felt Sicheng’s tongue running up the inside of one thigh and then the other.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Sicheng’s sinful tongue lapped at his balls and then began to mouth at his cock which immediately complied and stiffened in Sicheng’s mouth. Sicheng took him in, all the way in, and sucked as he used his hands to caress the inside of Yutas thighs. His fingertips danced across the soft skin as the hot water still fell around them and Yuta fisted his hair gently as he wallowed in the warm wet heat of Sicheng’s mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">With Yuta wrapped in a dreamlike haze Sicheng decided to go for it. He sucked a finger and slipped it into Yuta’s ass as his mouth returned to his cock and he knew he had him. Yuta’s eyes shot open as Sicheng curled his finger inside and began to rub.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Yuta began to moan and every muscle in his body clenched tight. Sicheng knew exactly how to find the right spot inside him and when his finger hit it he twitched all over. Sicheng hollowed his cheeks and sucked harder and Yuta began to beg him to stop. “Okay.... stop..... stop or I won’t last...” he gasped and pulled at Sicheng’s hair harder in a desperate plea for relief. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Sicheng released his cock and smirked at the mess the older man was in. Years of anger and hurt finally poured out in a cathartic lust and an arousal that could only be described as healing. He shed his clothing quickly as Yuta discarded his tshirt and finally, after they were both naked, finally nothing was standing between them.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Sicheng lifted one leg and pressed his hips into Yuta’s body. He began to lazily grind his hips, his damp body gleaming in the light, shining with a combination of water and sweat. He rubbed their erections together and closed his eyes and Yuta was absolutely mesmerised. His strength and flexibility had only been enhanced during their years apart. All the long years of wondering, wishing, fantasising about this could never compare to having Sicheng naked and in his arms. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Yuta kissed down his neck as he reached down between them and grabbed both their cocks in his hand. The water pouring over them did nothing to help as he stroked them together, harshly, Sicheng tipping his head back in the exquisite pain of pleasure. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I want to fuck you,” Yuta groaned against Sichengs collarbone as he stroked them both slowly. “I’ve been wanting nothing else for ten years. Please, please let me fuck you.” Sicheng moaned out some semblance of agreement and Yuta pulled them closer, his hands leaving their cocks to press between their stomachs as his hands explored Sicheng’s ass. He pulled his cheeks apart and teased his hole with one finger, pressing gently, smiling when he heard Sicheng’s hiss of sensitivity.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“We don’t have any lube,” Yuta suddenly realised and Sicheng shook his head. “There’s some in my backpack. In the side pocket.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Yuta wondered if Sicheng had been hoping for this the whole time.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He reached over and grabbed the lube from the bag. Sicheng turned around and braced himself on the walk of the shower as Yuta upended the bottle and squeezed. He let the clear jelly drip down onto his fingers as he admired the severe arch of Sicheng’s flexible back and the slim swell of his hips. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The lube was cold and Sicheng hissed a little as Yuta pushed one finger inside but he pressed his chest against Sicheng’s back and whispered sweet words in his ear to relax him. Soon he willingly accepted another and when he began to push back into Yuta’s hand and rock he knew he wouldn’t have to wait any longer.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Yuta stroked Sicheng’s thighs as he opened him up. “Please....” it was almost a sob, a desperate plea to finally feel him, “please Sicheng.” Sicheng just nodded.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">When Yuta pushed inside him he was overwhelmed. By the heat, by how tight he was, the wet slick of his insides. Most of all by how right it felt. How complete, like the full stop finally added to the turmultuous paragraph of their relationship.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">No, Yuta thought as he pulled back and enjoyed the drag of his cock against Sicheng’s insides, not a full stop. This was a semicolon. It was an interstitial, a transformation, a bridge to the future. This was only the beginning.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Faster...” Sicheng gasped and reached for his own cock. Yuta pushed his hand away so he could stroke him and Sicheng arched his back and bowed his hips. “I’m so in love with you,” Yuta crooned in his ear as the slim man in his arms moaned and every muscle in his body rippled at Yuta’s fingertips. Yuta held him close, one arm around his waist, as he them drove his cock up hard into Sicheng’s body. The other trembled and began to gasp little short breaths and soon Yutas hand was filled with the warmth of Sicheng’s cum. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He was quiet when Yuta fucked him through his orgasm just as he though he would be. Yuta always imagined Sicheng to be dignified and beautiful, and he was, even as his chest was pushed hard into the tiles of the shower. Even as his body trembled and tended and his lungs heaved for oxygen, as pleasure ripped through his body like an electric shock, Sicheng was nothing but stunningly gorgeous. Yuta wanted to hold onto this memory forever and never let it go.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">A few hard thrusts and he came inside Sicheng, no longer willing to hold back, drained of the strength to resist. As he came Sicheng’s name played across his lips and escaped into the steam of the shower and filled the air with a melancholic happiness. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Was this it? If this was his only chance Yuta never wanted it to end. He thrust through his orgasm and tried to fight overstimulation but he eventually softened and slipped out. No one spoke, the air heavy, words unsaid but their meaning too evident. Yuta didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want it to go this way so he just wrapped Sicheng in his arms and buried his face into the soft wispy hairs plastered to the nape of the dancers neck.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Please tell me this wasn’t it,” he said and was proud of his bravery. He didn’t want to hear the answer but he steeled himself for it anyway. He felt every muscle in Sicheng’s body tense, whether with fear or sadness he couldn’t tell, but he just held him a little tighter.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Just a little longer.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">His chest heaved as he planted for oxygen in the tiny steamy cubicle. When he felt Sicheng start to shift and squirm he clutched tighter to his wet skin. “Please,” he whispered, “not yet. Let me hold on to you just a little longer.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It was no use. Sicheng broke free and turned in his arms and his eyes glowed dark and sable as they stared down into Yuta’s. “We’ve got all the time in the world,” he smiled gently and Yuta wanted to drown in it. “Really?” his bottom lip trembled until Sicheng dipped his head and took it in a slow deep kiss. “We’ve wasted enough time already,” he grinned as his hands came to rest on Yuta’s cheeks flushed pink with the heat of the shower. “Nothing can keep us apart now.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p>
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